Villamil, a man in his mid-70s, set down the white root he was grating to light a cigarette. The sunlight from the side window reflected upon the silhouetted figure sitting in his customary spot in the wooden, typically Cuban rocking chair. He lit yet another rolled Cuban cigarette and puffed. The sun's rays reflected off of the smoke. From his vantage point, he could observe the rest of the room, which consisted of an altar for Osain [oricha or deity of sacred herbs and healing], a Christian calendar with an image of Jesus, and a double bed. He could also see down the long hall into his altar-filled salon, where his numerous ahijados and ahijadas (godchildren) wait to receive council with their padrino (godfather or spiritual adviser). As a chicken peeked its head around the corner, Osvaldo clarified to me the need to know the appropriate rhythms and words to the sacred songs to be able to communicate with the oricha "so that what you ask for they will give." He was talking from his many years of experience as the obá-oriaté (king or master of ceremonies) and also the akpwón (lead singer) for the Cabildo Santa Teresa, one of three cabildos (mutual aid societies) that has existed in Matanzas since the 1800s. He then started to sing in his aged, throaty voice, offering an oración or prayer to Elegua (the trickster oricha of the crossroads).It is through the words, the rhythms and the movements of these sacred songs that the orichas (Yoruba spirits who connect humans, ancestors, nature and God) were able to travel from Africa to Cuba, live and connect practitioners in cabildos de nación, and continue to travel and offer support for Yoruba initiates in

The spaces where humans, plants, and animals intermingle are rich junctures of mobility, sensuality, and impressions that together evoke a sense of place. Visual anthropology can help interpret these humaNature events-where dichotomies and divisions are blurred, and lived experiences of multispecies mingling are brought to the fore through emerging practices that apply experiential and experimental devices. Attending to emotional textures of intimacy, soundscapes of multiple species, and embodied, sensuous ways of knowing that do not privilege solely the agency of human actors, nor rely primarily on a linear narrative and didactic logic, the academic-artistic endeavor that I discuss in this article-and demonstrate in its accompanying short video, Senses of Silver River-is aimed at bringing feminist, decolonial ways of knowing the world to the forefront (cf. Collins; Harrison; Trinh). Toward this effort, I propose a methodological intervention that I call evocative ethnography, which favors a sensorial realm to explore, interpret, and share a sense of place.